Canadian Humor
by Fallen1
Summary: A story for the real Canada. Because every Canadian has, at some point, laughed so hard they've fallen down. It's also about the people who love them enough to make sure they're ok and then laugh at them;nothing says funny like head trauma or a hangover.
1. Chapter 1

_Sooo…I'm sick of boo-hoo suicidal Canada. We don't like being called Americans and no we don't get a lot of global recognition, but for the most part we just say fuck it, get a drink, and promptly go out and do something stupid or dangerous for shits and giggles. Like tying a g.t. to a snowmobile or 4-wheeler and taking them for a run through the mud. Stupid but fun as all hell! We don't wanna take a knife and open our veins. We just want to have some fun! And laugh about it._

Matthew was slowly turning red. Shoulders shaking and his breathing had all but stopped. The rest of the people in the room were looking on in concern. He leaned, rather heavily, against the pulpit in the front of the conference room. His papers, more importantly his speech (the one he was suppose to be giving to the world meeting) fell to the floor as he collapsed to his knees, hitting his head on the way down. Several nations stood up but they all looked unsure as to what they should do to help the Canadian. Both Irelands started to giggle as Wales put her hand over her mouth to stifle her own. Scotland rolled his eyes, stood up and walked over to the poor Canuk, muttering about concussions.

"For the love of…Cough lad, your turn'n purple already." Matthew looked up at his uncle through watery eyes. Doing as he was told he managed to weakly laugh and gasp for air.

"Going…to…kill them…kill them all…" Scotland picked up the papers that were scattered on the floor. Looking over them, he started to chuckle.

"Well now, can't say I blame you."

Manitoba was drunk. While this condition was nowhere new to her, she was also hopped up on sugar. Hindsight, which is always 20/20, could've told her dumping that much vodka into each of the countless slurpees she had been sucking back was, in fact, a very bad idea. It was how many 4 am perogie fires were created. However hindsight, or foresight for that matter, where not Manitoba's strongest trait. Winnipeg was the slushie capitol of the world, goddamn it, and she was it's queen… Or part of the problem; she could never remember which…None the less she had to find the others and 'convince' them that her idea (better known as the vague concept rolling around in her pickled brain) was the best thing since ever.

…

…

…

She was going to need more vodka.

…

A _lot_ more vodka.

"Well well, looks like the Buffalo-fucker is on another bender. Will surprises never end." Saskatchewan snarked at the Manitoban woman.

"Fuck off, eh? Gapper bitch!" Manitoba snapped at the other female. The rest of the provinces and territories all ignored the two bickering prairie provinces. Shouts of "Juice Pig" and "Flat whore" echoed in the room for awhile before North West Territories stood up, consequently towering over all the others, and physical separated the two.

(N'We't was at one time two-thirds of the northern shield and even after Nunavut woke up he retained his rather huge size.)

"I have the best idea." 'Toba deadpanned, glowering in the direction of 'Wan. "But it's going to take some vodka. Or rum. Maybe whiskey, hey, where's the whiskey?"

Ontario immediately went into full lecture mode while Quebec laughed and went to collected the shot glasses and the whiskey. He took a minute to admire the bottle, shaped like a maple leaf, and more importantly the whiskey inside. 'Toba's ideas where always fun, as long as they came with some liquor. Newfoundland and Labrador both went to find their screech, both in the same frame of mind as 'Bec. B.C. smirked around his joint. Maybe today wouldn't suck as much as he thought.

Scotland chuckled as he read through the drunken scribbling and drawings of the Canadians. Slurs against each other and other countries were the most common, as well as rough sketches of … things, though the captions below them were absolutely useless. The faint smell of alcohol drifted off the papers. He came to the last paper and stared.

"Wha the…? Good god what won't he put maple syrup in?"

On the last page, peeled from the maple leaf whiskey bottle, was the label that simply read 'Sweet Sipping Canadian Maple Whiskey'.

_If you want to see some Canadian humor at it's best, or most free at any rate, go to you tube and type in Video On Trial or umokthenok. Good times. __**This**__ is what we do in our free time. Hutzah!_


	2. Chapter 2

**More rambling from me. Still sick of sad, gonna-kill-myself Matthew**

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Scotland took a long drag of his coffin nail. The meeting had final ended and, after Canada's little break down, Scotland needed a quick hit. He glanced at his nephew out of the corner of his eye. The Canuck had a special roll and was puffing back hard. His speech, which _had_ been well prepared (at one point), was a drunken mess with random plans and plots and slurs scrawled all over it. Matthew sullenly made a large smoke ring and watched it hang in the air and slowly fade. The one time, in a long time, that the other nations were paying attention to him and his family had promptly screwed him over. Worst part was they weren't even in a vaguely similar time zone so he couldn't, at the very least, phone them up and yell at them. So instead he would simply sulk. Scotland heaved a quiet sigh and tried his best to cheer the other up.

"At least this time you didn't give yourself a concussion or make yourself yak. And when your Prime Minister asks what happened to the others you'll have proof that it was at least a provoked attack." Scotland puffed on the lit cancer stick for a bit before the Canadian even bothered to answer.

"There are plans to take over Ukraine and make her cook perogies and Easter bread for us, for the rest of forever. There's a new recipe for maple syrup infused screech written in 'Radour and N'f'land's handwriting. The world will end before those two let 'Bec near their screech, even with maple syrup. They all spent one whole page insulting each other and half the nations in the meeting room. They listed over one hundred reasons why we should invade Cuba and could only come up with two as to why we shouldn't. B.C. and 'Tario wrote a terrible poem about 4:20 tulips and congress steps. There are sketches of what I can only assume are doomsday devices and what looks like some sort of…wood…chipper slash zamboni." Matthew finished his joint and sealed the roach in the baggie he then hid deep in his briefcase.

"Was that what those pictures were?" The Scot chuckled stubbing out his smoke. "Look at it this way, now you have blackmail material over all of them."

"Pfft…like this is going to even vaguely haunt any of them. At best they'll ask if anyone taped me losing my head. At worst…they point and laugh at me. And at that moment in time I can only hope they all fall flat on their asses." Matthew made a sour face at the thought. Scotland laughed again. The Canadians were good at making him forget that he was supposed to be an old country, proud and traditional. Sort of like his brother, with maybe a slightly smaller stick up his ass.

"Let's go get something to eat, aye?" Scotland threw an arm around the younger nations shoulders and steered him towards an inviting restaurant.

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His nephew, as well as the other children tied to the vast, northern land, were an odd bunch, that seemed to go out of their way to make everything funny, and yet there was something else there too. Scotland watched his nephew again out of the corner of his eye. Something that Russia had said along time ago about General Winter and his way of bringing up the nation children he claimed as his. All of the Canadians had, at some point in time and usually drunk or otherwise incapacitated, mentioned the cold general in passing. The smiles and laughter and warmth he was so use to seeing on their faces disappeared for a split second, leaving only the ice and cold and terror he had always associated with the Russki. But the warmth and life always found it's way back to all of them. Maybe that was enough…

"Figure it out, eh?" Matthew took a bite of his meal and looked up at his uncle. The startled look on his face was enough to send Matthew into a giggling fit. Manly giggles mind you. "You've been staring into space for the past five minutes with the oddest look on your face. I was just wondering if you figured out what was puzzling you yet?" Scotland stared at the young man in front of him. And made a decision.

"Mata," the Canadian visibly started at the variation of his name. Scotland rarely used it in public or even when there were other nations around. It was a name meant to be used by just him, a secret name between the two of them. "How come you aren't more like Russia?" Matthew looked at the man he had always looked up to, had always admired, the one he had came to love like a father. And he smiled.

"I was wondering when someone was going to ask me that question. I'm kinda glad you're the first." Matthew used his straw to stir his drink, violet eyes unfocused and staring off into a memory. "Your wondering about General Winter aren't you?"

"Aye, that I am." Matthew smiled again, though this one was sad and tinged with regret before the ice settled once again in his eyes.

"General Winter is not an easy man to live with. He can be kind one day and terrifying the next. I had decided early on not to bother him as much as I could, but that…was a mistake." Again the boy was off into a place so far away in his memories that there was no way for Scotland to follow, no way for the Scott to help bring him home . "He was livid when he realized that I was avoiding him and he…took steps to ensure that I would never do it again. But he also taught me things, things that saved me and my people…He went out of his way to be with me and at that time that was what I needed. Without him I would have been alone for a very long time…"

"But you had the others didn't you? Your provinces and territories were there with you." Scotland was curious. Matthew was making it sound like he had been alone for a long time, but he was sure both Ontario and Quebec had been around at least since both France and England had landed. Matthew laughed, a dark, brittle sound.

"I'm older than I look uncle. None the less, I learned to…roll with the punches, so to speak. Later I learned that the best way to handle the fear and loneliness was to laugh. And when the others came I had already taken that lesson and worked to instill it in them as well. People will always use each other, will always hurt each other, there will always be bad things in the world, and if we can't learn to laugh at it, then we lose. Someday we might lose more than we can bear…" A determined look settled on the Canuck's face. "And I owe my children better than that. Besides," a warm, familiar smile, "when you get right down to it, just about everything really is very funny. Anyway you should just be glad I inherited your sense of humor."

"You have no idea how glad I am about that lad!" The Scotsman laughed, loud and hearty. His nephew was odd, of that there was no doubt, but he could take care of himself and his children and they would always be there, in the frozen north, watching the rest of the world around them, as well as themselves, laughing the entire time. Canadian humor was as vast as the land and people who lived it. And for that Scotland was glad. Canada would not be Canada without it and he rather liked Canada just the way he is. "Still do you _have_ to have so many mimes?"

"Uncle!"

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Ontario fumbled around for his cell phone, which at the moment (the ungodly early moment) was ringing in his ear, and resounding in his head. Grumbling, he fumbled with the cell phone and promptly dropped it under his bed. Who the hell texts at 4 in the morning on a Tuesday anyway? Fishing it out he flipped it open. The message politely informed him that, when Matthew came home, he was going to die. Probably fairly horribly. The only thing that was consoling him was the fact that he wasn't going out alone. The other provinces and territories all got the same message, judging from the panicked texts from New Brunswick and Nova Scotia and Nunavut. B.C.'s text came in and 'Tario was forced to agree with the fairly simple message. They were all royally fucked.

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Later, with Matthew breathing fire down their necks, they would all turn on each other with a speed that would make your head spin. None of them would see the smug smirk he tried to hid.

Like he had told his uncle, just about everything was funny. Particularly a bad game of lay the blame.

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**That's about it for now. Thanks for reading.**

**JHO14 - We all know it's called B.C. Bud for a reason. :D But if B.C. is a druggie so are all the rest of them…Canada is number one for smoking pot in the world after all.**

**Darkfire Kitten - Hope this helped a bit. I didn't mean to hit the complete button before, but god forbid I reread something. Sorry…**

**Methodtothismadness - Bitching! Love, **_**love**_**, ski-doo tobogganing in the winter/early spring. As for the drink, I don't drink beer 'till I'm drunk. I tend to stick to vodka and rum and whiskey/rye. However I will for sure go for a drink. Lol try to stop me.**

**Canadian Anon - Glad I could make you laugh! I will take your props and your offered drink both and say 'Thank you very much!'**


	3. Chapter 3

Http :/ www . you tube . Com / user / umokthenok#p / u / 135 / UFr71t7dgbw

Http :/ www . you tube . Com / user / umokthenok#p / u / 134 / ZUnIhsuD4vM

Http :/ www . you tube . Com / user / umokthenok#p / u / 133 / XzUXrVYLwe0

Http :/ www . you tube . Com / user / umokthenok#p / u / 132 / s2F3uM7LS3Q

**Back with more…I had started writing this chapter and then I got RandomGeek's rather nice review. So this is for RandomGeek. Hurrah!**

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"MATTIE! WHAT THE HELL?" Alfred threw open the door to Canada's Toronto home. Matthew looked up from his porridge and maple syrup at the raging American.

"Did you drive all night just to yell at me?" Matthew went back to his morning paper.

"Why did you make that? They worked hard to make those videos! They're great artists and they deserve your respect!" The American was slowly turning red and almost foaming at the mouth.

"Alfred…what the hell are you talking about?"

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New Brunswick was giggling from behind Ontario's new camcorder. America was giving the poor confused Canadian a rather loud piece of his mind. 'Swick was totally going to give this to B.C. to make the Canada Day Super Special Commemorative DVD. They already had several hours of drunken adventures and one night of 'special' fun… Not that they only got high that one night, but it was the only night that any of them had bothered to turn on the camera. He was beginning to think that perhaps there was a problem…

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They really needed to get a remote for the camcorder.

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Alfred's explosive tirade about…something, had gone on for about fifteen before the Canadian finally got tired of it and interrupted the cries of 'Not fair' and 'They're so brilliant and talented' and his favorite, 'Your totally jealous!'.

"Al, what the hell are you talking about?" He wanted this over and done with. It was a lot harder to ignore the Yank when he was using his rather shrill 'I can't believe you did that to me, what where you thinking, how could you, what is the world coming to, how will I survive?' voice. Damn it all he wanted to do was enjoy his freaking porridge.

"I'M talking about that stupid show of yours. Trial Video or Stupid people who make fun of way better looking and far more talented _Americans_ or what ever you call it." Alfred was breathing rather heavily at this point. How could the little defenseless Canadian _do_ this to him? Sure, his own people made fun of the Canadians all the time, but for the Canadians to do it back? What was happening to the world? Didn't they know that this wasn't how it was suppose to go? What the hell?

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Matthew stared at his brother. This was about _Video on Trial?_ The whole piss fit was about a fucking comedy show? Did he not get that the whole point of a _comedy show_ was to make fun of… just about everything? What the hell?

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'Swick watched as five minutes went by without either of the two countries saying a word, both lost in the angry screams in their heads.

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This was boring.

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It took Matt several times to explain the whole show to his 'brother'. (He still had a problem admitting they were related when Alfred did something stupid. Call it a survival tactic or denial that any part of him was in something that could be that stupid…) Alfred _could _be brilliant, when he **wanted** to be. He was also an over sensitive jerk. It wasn't until he noticed that the comedians made more fun of the _Canadian_ bands and singers that he dropped the whole thing. Bloody Yanks. With a dramatic sigh Matthew turned back to his stone cold porridge and tea. Dumping both out, he washed the dirty dishes and without so much as a look over his shoulder he gave New Brunswick what for.

"Turn off the damned camera 'Swick. I know you taped the whole thing."

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His only answer was a slamming door and the sound of socked feet running up the stairs.

…

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**Also to Tigerspider. I'm glad I could force you to review! From the sounds of it we both enjoy the same type of tea. And thank god for it too, eh? As for the wood chipper/zamboni…well I just call it my evidence remover… :D Evidence of what? Who knows?**

**Also please feel free to make any requests you would like to see written. I work better knowing someone will hate me if I don't finish! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

…**So I know I **_**should **_**say don't try this, but really, just go ahead and try. It's bitchin' fun!**

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Little Nunavut and Manitoba were in the last fast food joint. Alberta, Saskatchewan and B.C. were also on their last restaurant and the rest were almost finished making the snacks and drinks (all under Quebec's iron fist). Quickly placing the food into the backpack strapped to 'Vut's back, they carefully slipped out with the trays. Giggling as they pulled out of the parking lot they quickly made their way to the park the others were meeting them at.

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"Oi! Boss Man! Over here!" B.C. lazily waved his joint at Matthew and the his east coast brethren. Yukon and North West Territories were discretely building a fire pit at the bottom of the hill. Manitoba and Saskatchewan were attempting to gathering wood from the groove of poplars. Alberta and Nunavut were doing the actual gathering. Manitoba and Saskatchewan were, once again, loudly arguing. The only difference is that both women were now wielding large branches and brandishing them like weapons while shrieking at each other.

"Did you get them? Please tell me you got them!" The manifestation of Canada pleaded with his western most province. B.C. took a long drag and watched his boss. He was almost twitching with excitement, ready to start, wanting to go-go-go.

"Of course. Your lack of faith in us wounds my poor little heart," B.C. put his hand over his heart and dramatically swooned. All for effect of course. He had a reputation to uphold. Good looking, fun loving, all around good guy with an untameable sense of adventure…

"B.C. please stop mentally stoking your ego. It's very creepy." Canada deadpanned. "Let's just get started shall we?" The blonde man moved down the hill to the others, leaving B.C. to pout and follow. Nova Scotia and New Brunswick were giggling at Newfoundland and Labrador's _horrible_ impressions of him. Quebec merely muttered death threats under his breathe but they were in French and everyone west of Manitoba knows that they don't really count if they're not in English. P.E.I. laughed until she had to sit down in a rather deep snow bank. B.C. did the only mature thing he could do in this situation. Gave them the finger and an eye roll and moved away from them. Honestly.

"Okay everyone! Grab a tray and lets go!" Canada yelled at the gathering of provinces and territories. A loud cheer from all of them quickly followed as they all ran up the hill again, hinder slightly by the snow (as Nova Scotia quickly slid right back down the hill again). The rest of the day was filled with a variation of tray sledding, tray boarding, and at one point Alberta even tried down hill tray skiing. Saskatchewan and Manitoba had to dig him out of a bank, all three of them laughing so hard it took twice as long. Quebec finally herded everyone back to the picnic and the merrily burning fire at the bottom of the hill just as the sun was setting. Only two of the trays had broken due to the cold, luckily they had spares.

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Matthew smiled softly at his sleeping family as they were sprawled all over his living room. The fun of the day had wiped them all out. Nunavut had fallen asleep first, quickly followed by all the others. Matthew himself was slowly nodding off as well, the warmth sinking into his bones, and making his eyelids heavy. However he just wanted to watch his family for a bit longer. There were times that he was terrified that his family was a broken mess, one that couldn't be fixed (no matter how hard he tried).

And there was times like this (wonderful, bright, happy times) where they all came together, and really _were_ a family. The love and laughter were genuine and abundant. His family might fight and mock and bitch and rail at each other, but they also loved each other and would, at the drop of a hat, be there no matter what. All of them, himself included, had grown into wonderful people. They had their problems (a country full of them), but he couldn't be more proud of them. He drifted off, the last thought in his mind was the distant acknowledgement that when they all woke up they were going to be _very_ sore because they fell asleep on the various chairs, chesterfields and the floor.

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**If you do try this, please note that the cheap trays will break if it's too cold and you will take a header. HARD. **

**Please remember that Canada is having too much fun to want to kill himself all the time. **

**And to all those who read this and are from B.C. don't take B.C.'s rant to heart, but you all do seem to yourselves a little too seriously. But that's why we love you! 3**


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